He Is Still Good
Hello all, and happy almost Spring Break to everyone! One more week of work for me and then it's nine whole days away from work. Then there's only seven weeks after that until the end of school, although I am definitely not counting it down...
So, today has been super weird. I joined a new gym last week, so today I went to cancel the membership for my old gym. It's something I can totally sense I've been putting off on purpose. Change is good! I will be the first one to tell you all that; however, that doesn't make things any less strange or discomfiting when they DO change. And as I was walking into the gym, it hit me that three years ago at the end of last month was when I first joined. Which is fine, I wasn't heavily attached to the gym itself. I am attached to the memories from three years ago that I associate with that gym, though.
Three years ago, I was working at Starbucks, fighting through a darkness that seemed to perpetually hang over my head; I was looking for confirmation of myself in all the wrong places. I had never traveled anywhere all on my own, or even been on a plane before! I had a very small group of friends that I kept close to myself, and I wasn't very keen on expanding outside of that group; I didn't really know who I was, or what I even wanted out of my life; I was pretty content to just keep living my life in a flowing, discombobulated rhythm, fed by espresso shots, late nights at bars, and five AM wake up calls for work.
I will be one of the first to tell you that living in such a way doesn't work very well, and never lasts very long. In one quick blink, you can find yourself facing a giant the likes of which you've never experienced before. And if you've been living your life pushing away from the Truth, you will be utterly overwhelmed when the rug is yanked out from under you; you won't have anything real to stand on. It is not that you have to always have every little thing figured out; but putting up a false front so people THINK you're more put together than you actually are always fails.
Because eventually, that false front must come down.
Three years ago, I started working out for the first time since I was a senior in high school. I struggled between being happy about it, and the feeling that I honestly didn't really care. I forced myself to go as often as my ridiculous work schedule allowed me to, and I was almost always joined by best friend, Mary. We were both determined, to an extent, to keep working out no matter what came up, and we leaned against each other for support every time we went.
My happy, clumsy, passionate, light-filled best friend is the first person to teach me about Joy in its purest form. At the time, I was vaguely aware of this realization, and was more so just happy about having someone around who really understood me. Someone who was just as emotion-filled and sensible about things as I was; who didn't pry like crazy into my life, and who gave me the best pep talk of my entire life on the day I finally opened up about my self-esteem issues. Mary made me want to see more than just my hometown; I was slightly jealous of all the places she had been, and we made vague plans for future trips to take together. We went and saw the live-action Cinderella movie together, and together we got super pumped up about live-action Jungle Book that was coming out later that year. So, we made more future plans to go see it when it came out.
As I know many of you already know, Mary and I never got the chance to put those plans, vague or not, into action. On April 15th, 2015, my best friend passed away suddenly from a seizure, and I found myself facing the aforementioned giant.
Grief that is mishandled will utterly and completely rip apart your heart.
I know a lot of people already know this story; barring some of the smaller details, this is not the first time I have written about Mary. However, this is what was on my heart today, and I feel very pressed to share the gritty, sad details, as well as the joy and love that came out of this time in my life. It is the first time in my life that I really turned a corner and started LIVING for the Joy that has been set before me. It is not my first experience with grief by any means, but it is the most intense and life-altering grief I have ever known...
So, the first few days after Mary's death are a vicious blur in my mind. I remember working, I remember crying at work, I remember all the flowers and candy and food that people sent to the store. I remember my boss telling me exactly how my best friend died; and by exactly, I mean in excruciating detail. I do NOT recommend any of you doing that for any of your grieving friends. I'm still not happy that she told me (it was very much unsolicited, obviously) and to this day the thought will occasionally haunt me. Mary's funeral was one of the weirdest days of my entire life. The first half of the day was horrid, and doesn't really bear much remembrance; the second half was much better, but a very somber cloud hung over all of us.
I struggled for a very long time with the heaviness of guilt. I think a lot of people feel that way after someone close to them passes, but it was another brand new experience for me. I had never had a friend, especially someone I was close with, pass away. I felt like if I hadn't been rushing her with all my texts, then maybe the seizure wouldn't have happened. Which is nonsense, of course, but I didn't know what else to do. There was no one to blame, so at first I placed all the blame on myself; later on, I piled it all on God, and raged with an anger that these days I can't even imagine. After a lot of prayer, tears, prayer, soul-searching, and more prayer, I finally came to terms with the idea that my best friend was gone. When that happened, deep sorrow replaced my guilt and anger, and I sank down into a fogginess for a few months. I occasionally resurfaced, and sometimes even found myself laughing and carrying-on, very much to my bewilderment and dismay. Again, I had to come to terms with things that I had never even thought would ever be issues for me; eventually, I let go of the idea that I had to always be somber and depressed. Mary herself would have hated that.
About one month after Mary's passing, I decided I couldn't bear it anymore. It was like I was being slowly suffocated, and since ninety percent of my time was spent in Starbucks, I never felt like I had a chance to regroup and fully process everything. So, I left. I took a week off work and went down to my family in Georgia. My first road trip by myself, my first time at a lakeside beach, my first time in IKEA, and plenty of time to myself. It was a start, but the healing process didn't truly take off until November of that year, when I flew out to California with one of my friends for a VERY impromptu birthday trip. My first time on a plane, my first time driving with snow chains, my first time seeing the Pacific Ocean. It was in California, standing on Stinson Beach, that I finally felt the first wave of peace flow through me. It is right then, with the icy waves hitting my legs and feet, that I felt my perspective start to change.
Even though I had lost my best friend, and even though the grief was still roaring in my heart, I was going to praise God anyway.
Even though it sometimes felt like I was drowning in emotion and nobody understood me, I was going to trust and have faith that He wasn't going anywhere.
Even though none of it made any sense, and still doesn't, I was going to choose Joy over anger.
Located on my right thigh.
Tattoo by the lovely Victoria Kurtz at Bananafish Tattoo Parlour <3
So, today has been super weird. I joined a new gym last week, so today I went to cancel the membership for my old gym. It's something I can totally sense I've been putting off on purpose. Change is good! I will be the first one to tell you all that; however, that doesn't make things any less strange or discomfiting when they DO change. And as I was walking into the gym, it hit me that three years ago at the end of last month was when I first joined. Which is fine, I wasn't heavily attached to the gym itself. I am attached to the memories from three years ago that I associate with that gym, though.
Three years ago, I was working at Starbucks, fighting through a darkness that seemed to perpetually hang over my head; I was looking for confirmation of myself in all the wrong places. I had never traveled anywhere all on my own, or even been on a plane before! I had a very small group of friends that I kept close to myself, and I wasn't very keen on expanding outside of that group; I didn't really know who I was, or what I even wanted out of my life; I was pretty content to just keep living my life in a flowing, discombobulated rhythm, fed by espresso shots, late nights at bars, and five AM wake up calls for work.
I will be one of the first to tell you that living in such a way doesn't work very well, and never lasts very long. In one quick blink, you can find yourself facing a giant the likes of which you've never experienced before. And if you've been living your life pushing away from the Truth, you will be utterly overwhelmed when the rug is yanked out from under you; you won't have anything real to stand on. It is not that you have to always have every little thing figured out; but putting up a false front so people THINK you're more put together than you actually are always fails.
Because eventually, that false front must come down.
*********************************************
Three years ago, I started working out for the first time since I was a senior in high school. I struggled between being happy about it, and the feeling that I honestly didn't really care. I forced myself to go as often as my ridiculous work schedule allowed me to, and I was almost always joined by best friend, Mary. We were both determined, to an extent, to keep working out no matter what came up, and we leaned against each other for support every time we went.
My happy, clumsy, passionate, light-filled best friend is the first person to teach me about Joy in its purest form. At the time, I was vaguely aware of this realization, and was more so just happy about having someone around who really understood me. Someone who was just as emotion-filled and sensible about things as I was; who didn't pry like crazy into my life, and who gave me the best pep talk of my entire life on the day I finally opened up about my self-esteem issues. Mary made me want to see more than just my hometown; I was slightly jealous of all the places she had been, and we made vague plans for future trips to take together. We went and saw the live-action Cinderella movie together, and together we got super pumped up about live-action Jungle Book that was coming out later that year. So, we made more future plans to go see it when it came out.
As I know many of you already know, Mary and I never got the chance to put those plans, vague or not, into action. On April 15th, 2015, my best friend passed away suddenly from a seizure, and I found myself facing the aforementioned giant.
Grief that is mishandled will utterly and completely rip apart your heart.
**********************************************
April 15th, 2015. The day the enemy tried to take me down, but was instead foiled by the unfailing Joy that God slowly worked into my heart.
On that day three years ago, Mary and I had plans to get together and go shopping. I woke up, texted her to wake her up, and got in the shower. Twenty minutes later, no response text, so I messaged her again, and then again a little while later. Finally, about one hour after my first initial text, she responded with, "HI."
One hour after that, I was wandering around the mall by myself, wondering what on earth she was doing, and getting more and more frustrated as my texts and even phone calls went unanswered. I eventually left and went to another friend's house to hang out, thinking that maybe something had happened with her parents, and she would just call me when she could. My other friends also hadn't heard from her, but even then, nobody even entertained the thought that something had happened to Mary herself.
Approximately six hours after the very first text I sent her, I got a phone call from my very close friend and then-coworker, who asked me if I had heard from Mary at all. After responding that no, I sure hadn't, she broke down in hysterical tears and told me she had just heard from Mary's roommate. After needing her to repeat the news about two or three times, I remember my eyes getting big, and my breath stopping. I looked at my other friend and told her, and then somehow someone made the decision for everyone to head to our Starbucks. I called my mom and told her. I called someone else and told them. I was very much in shock at this point; tears were nowhere to be found, and I just kept repeating that everything was fine, and we were going to Starbucks.
I am fuzzy on a lot of the details after that, although we did all end up at Starbucks together. Everyone was crying, or trying not to, except me, because my brain just WASN'T processing the news as truth yet. I remember everyone standing in a big circle while one of my coworkers led us in prayer; I remember everyone hugging. And I remember that I left alone, and drove home. Which, of course, is when the panic attack started.
By the time I got home and walked inside, I could barely breathe.
***********************************************
I know a lot of people already know this story; barring some of the smaller details, this is not the first time I have written about Mary. However, this is what was on my heart today, and I feel very pressed to share the gritty, sad details, as well as the joy and love that came out of this time in my life. It is the first time in my life that I really turned a corner and started LIVING for the Joy that has been set before me. It is not my first experience with grief by any means, but it is the most intense and life-altering grief I have ever known...
So, the first few days after Mary's death are a vicious blur in my mind. I remember working, I remember crying at work, I remember all the flowers and candy and food that people sent to the store. I remember my boss telling me exactly how my best friend died; and by exactly, I mean in excruciating detail. I do NOT recommend any of you doing that for any of your grieving friends. I'm still not happy that she told me (it was very much unsolicited, obviously) and to this day the thought will occasionally haunt me. Mary's funeral was one of the weirdest days of my entire life. The first half of the day was horrid, and doesn't really bear much remembrance; the second half was much better, but a very somber cloud hung over all of us.
I struggled for a very long time with the heaviness of guilt. I think a lot of people feel that way after someone close to them passes, but it was another brand new experience for me. I had never had a friend, especially someone I was close with, pass away. I felt like if I hadn't been rushing her with all my texts, then maybe the seizure wouldn't have happened. Which is nonsense, of course, but I didn't know what else to do. There was no one to blame, so at first I placed all the blame on myself; later on, I piled it all on God, and raged with an anger that these days I can't even imagine. After a lot of prayer, tears, prayer, soul-searching, and more prayer, I finally came to terms with the idea that my best friend was gone. When that happened, deep sorrow replaced my guilt and anger, and I sank down into a fogginess for a few months. I occasionally resurfaced, and sometimes even found myself laughing and carrying-on, very much to my bewilderment and dismay. Again, I had to come to terms with things that I had never even thought would ever be issues for me; eventually, I let go of the idea that I had to always be somber and depressed. Mary herself would have hated that.
About one month after Mary's passing, I decided I couldn't bear it anymore. It was like I was being slowly suffocated, and since ninety percent of my time was spent in Starbucks, I never felt like I had a chance to regroup and fully process everything. So, I left. I took a week off work and went down to my family in Georgia. My first road trip by myself, my first time at a lakeside beach, my first time in IKEA, and plenty of time to myself. It was a start, but the healing process didn't truly take off until November of that year, when I flew out to California with one of my friends for a VERY impromptu birthday trip. My first time on a plane, my first time driving with snow chains, my first time seeing the Pacific Ocean. It was in California, standing on Stinson Beach, that I finally felt the first wave of peace flow through me. It is right then, with the icy waves hitting my legs and feet, that I felt my perspective start to change.
Even though I had lost my best friend, and even though the grief was still roaring in my heart, I was going to praise God anyway.
Even though it sometimes felt like I was drowning in emotion and nobody understood me, I was going to trust and have faith that He wasn't going anywhere.
Even though none of it made any sense, and still doesn't, I was going to choose Joy over anger.
*********************************************
Three years ago, I lost my best friend, and with her went all the false fronts I was putting up for people. Now, three years later, I can say with full confidence that I love myself. I can shout from the rooftops that I know who I am. I can say with absolute certainty that I am never going back to the life I was living before. I don't always know where exactly my life is headed, and there is still a small part of me that writhes in agony at the fact that my life is mostly all over the place. Slowly but surely though, the rigid, false front-erecting, worldly side of me is being pushed away; or, "put to death," as it were. I have flown several more places over the past three years, including back to California, and I have plans to keep doing that no matter what. On December 17th, 2016, I got my fourth and FAVORITE tattoo. A pocket watch without hands, with a blue bow on the end of the chain; the bow is the same one Mary had on her finger, but in her favorite color. I chose not to put hands on the watch because time is a relative concept; it is not an absolute, and I have no desire to live as though it was anymore. Hallelujah.
I have been forcing myself to embrace the uncertainty of change, and have even expanded my interests into going out and socializing with people at various events. I am not perfect, by any means. I still make plenty of mistakes, and I still struggle with feeling useless or angry at times. I will always be an introvert by nature, too! I am continuing to focus on the ultimate goal though, and I have finally grasped the true meaning of Joy.
I have been forcing myself to embrace the uncertainty of change, and have even expanded my interests into going out and socializing with people at various events. I am not perfect, by any means. I still make plenty of mistakes, and I still struggle with feeling useless or angry at times. I will always be an introvert by nature, too! I am continuing to focus on the ultimate goal though, and I have finally grasped the true meaning of Joy.
I suppose the point to telling all of this is to encourage people. Three years isn't a very long time, and every once in awhile I get hit with a fresh sense of grief. Sometimes I wonder where my life would be if Mary hadn't left so soon; her death pushed me into a new place, and caused me to make decisions the old me would be astonished by, honestly. I look back at my life three years ago, and all of my being cries out to God in thankfulness. Yes, even in spite of the grief.
Because even though I am constantly wishing her back, I will continue praising Him. Because even if I never get what I think I want out of this life, He is still good.
************************************************
"You will keep in perfect peace, those whose minds are steadfast, because they trust in you. Trust in the Lord forever, for the Lord, the Lord Himself, is the Rock eternal."
Isaiah 26:3-4, NIV.
Tattoo by the lovely Victoria Kurtz at Bananafish Tattoo Parlour <3
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